


Drawn to the Heart

by signedxo



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Just Roll With It (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Awkward Conversations, Awkwardness, Br'aad Likes Drawing, Br'aad Loves The Party, Brotherly Love, Brothers, Fluff, Humor, Modern Era, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Party as Family, The Party Loves Br'aad, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:08:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24081088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signedxo/pseuds/signedxo
Summary: Br'aad likes drawing on Sylnan's arm. The rest of The Fated notices. Now Br'aad has even more places to draw.orBr'aad draws on The Fated.
Relationships: Br'aad Vengolor & Everyone, Sylnan Vengolor & Mountain (JRWI)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 94





	Drawn to the Heart

“Hey Sylnan!”

The man in question looked up. Confused at who could be calling his name, as he was completely alone in this park. His features switched from those of confusion to a small smile when he saw who it was.

“Oh hey Mountain!” Sylnan scooched over on the bench he was sitting on so that Mountain could sit down. Once his friend did sit, the dark-haired man repositioned himself slightly so that he could face the other better. “What’s up?”

“I was just doing my afternoon jog around when I saw you, decided to say hi and see how’s it going.”

“Well it’s going. I decided I needed a break from being cooped up indoors and get some fresh air.” Sylnan looked up at the sky. It was sunny but cloudy, causing protection from the sun’s otherwise, hot rays. He put his hand over his eyes to get a better look around. That movement caught Mountain’s eye and he cleared his throat.

“Also, what’s that-“ The shorter male gestured vaguely to Sylnan’s arm. “- all about.”

Sylnan took his hand away from his face and looked at it briefly, then back up to Mountain, the confused look back on his face.

“Well uh… you see.” Sylnan paused and studied Mountain’s face, trying to figure out if he was joking or not. After a beat of silence, the man cleared his throat and continued. “Uh… I had severe nerve damage from an incident that caused my arm to go purple and basically die on me. So i had it replac—“

“NO!” Mountain yelled, interrupting Sylnan. However, the suddenness of it made Sylnan jump and pull out a dagger. Realizing his mistake, Mountain lowered his voice and said again, “I mean, no. And uh, sorry for yelling.”

Sylnan blinked a few times and remembered that he still had a dagger out. Chuckling awkwardly, he put it back in it’s hiding spot and wiped the sweat off his hands. The amount of movement and the uncomfortableness of the situation made his palms feel clammy.

“Eh, it’s okay, bud. Sorry for pulling a dagger on you.”

“Nah, it’s fine. It’s not like you’d actually hurt me or anything.” Mountain said, subtlety flexing the fact he’s strong.

“Yeah, okay.”

A few moments passed, the silence was deafening, and the tension thick enough you could cut it with one of Sylnan’s daggers. Still awkwardly avoiding eye contact, the taller man remembered why they were talking.

“So, what about my arm?”

“I was asking about the drawings and shit. Are you thinking of getting inked? Cause I know a really good tattoo artist, she actually was the one who did mine.” He gestured towards arms, which were almost completely covered with tattoos.

Mountain was about to continue, but Sylnan politely stopped him by raising his hand.

“Nah, it’s not like that. Br’aad just likes doodling on my arm sometimes.” The dark-haired man shrugged. “It’s just a thing. It helps him calm down a bit and it makes this arm—it makes _me_ feel a little more human.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Mountain’s brow furrowed, a sign he still had some questions. “But why doesn’t he just draw on his own arms?” He cleared his throat. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“It’s fine. And he does! He just prefers to draw on mine. A reminder for him that I’m still breathing and alive. And a reminder for me that he won’t leave any time soon.”

Sylnan looked down at his arm and smiled. Seeing all the crude drawings. Some of them nonsensical squiggles, others are reminders for Br’aad. One of them says “ _hang out w/ vel at split bean_ ” The eldest would have to ask him how that went later. On Synan’s palm was neatly drawn heart and in it were the words “ _always be sylly_ ” That one made Sylnan chuckle a bit, the nickname always made him happy.

Mountain just watched his friend admiring his arm and smiled slightly. He was a bit curious at what the words he saw said, but Br’aad’s writing was too messy to be comprehensible. Mountain thought to himself that Sylnan must have been magic to be able to read it, but really it was the brotherly bond. From what he could make out from the lines and squiggles were some rats and a drawing of Br’aad’s bird, Liveclock.

The silence was comforting this time, both were busy admiring their friend/brother’s work. Smiles adorned both their faces and they both felt relaxed.

Sylnan broke the silence, but it wasn’t sudden. His voice was soft, not whispering, but just soft, which reflected his feelings. “I remember the first time Br’aad drew on me. It couldn’t have been a long time after my surgery.” Sylnan was still looking at his arm, but looking past the ink covering it and at the metal parts where his knuckles should be. He bent his fingers, heard the quiet mechanical whirring and sighed. “He saw that I was feeling a bit… iffy, so to speak, about my arm.

Before all this, Br’aad had been drawing a bit on his hands and skin. I think he was doing it to cover up his markings from… you know. It helped him cope. I guess that’s why he started doing it on my arm; to help me cope.

From then on whenever he saw me particularly sad, which was quite often, he whipped out his pens and took me by the arm. Sometimes he’d use different coloured pens, but he says blue looks the best on me. Or he would use black and then colour it in with markers. Anyway he did it, it helped. Now I’m more comfy with my arm.”

“So why…?” The rest of the question stayed unsaid, as Sylnan understood what the ginger was saying.

“Eh, it’s a habit. I don’t really mind, it makes me happy and more importantly makes _him_ happy. And that’s all that matters to me.” Sylnan finally looked away from his arm and at Mountain. His smile wasn’t big, but it definitely was happy. His brown eyes were shining with unshed tears and memories.

The peace lasted only a few more seconds before Mountain stood up.

“Okay.” His voice was gruff and thick. “That’s enough mushy feely shit for me. Actually more than enough. I feel kinda... gross now.” The older male shuddered and looked at Sylnan. “Don’t like talk to me for the next few days, okay? I have heard enough girly shit to last me a lifetime and I need to recover.” Mountain down-nodded goodbye and quickly walked away.

Leaving Sylnan behind, who sat there, laughing at his friend’s antics.


End file.
